Breaking The Beast
by shox
Summary: Harry and Draco realize something special between them.
1. Chapter 1

Breaking The Beast

**Breaking The Beast**

_Chapter 1_

Fog rolled, a swirling white broken beast, parts of it creeping around the Herbology greenhouses that glittered ominously in the moonlight; otherwise, it draped itself across the grounds and hovered restlessly over the lake. A dark-robed figure could hardly be made out, noticed only when the fog shifted aimlessly. But Harry Potter, wrapped in his Invisibility Cloak and wandering the halls of Hogwarts after hours as usual, had noticed Draco Malfoy's dot on the Marauder's Map as he had crept out the front doors.

_Whatever Malfoy's up to this time, I'm going to find out_.

Harry pulled the cloak more tightly around himself and traced Draco's steps, quiet as the fog. He moved as quickly as he dared, almost catching up to Draco on the slight descent that denoted the giant hollow of the lake. Feeling slightly feverish as he tried to calm his breathing, Harry stopped behind a tree, willing his heart to slow down. Maybe Hermione was right; was he becoming obsessed with Draco?

Almost every waking moment was spent wondering where he went when his dot vanished from the Map; in his dreams, Draco haunted him, his slate-grey eyes large and glittering, that pale face dancing just out of the reach of Harry's fingers. And more often than not, those dreams left Harry aching, left him feeling vacant and wanting to…what? When he would wake, Harry could hardly breathe because it felt like his heart was breaking. Maybe he should just turn around and leave, take Hermione's advice and take a day or three off in the hospital wing, just rest and let his mind and body relax for a minute….But even as he thought about it, Harry knew the time alone would only magnify his desire to catch Malfoy at whatever it was he was doing so secretively.

Harry felt a trickle of sweat bead down his chest, itching under his shirt, hot under the cloak. But his body stilled almost peacefully as he watched Draco bend suddenly, dragging up a pile of pebbles. Harry could almost smell Draco's discomfort; did he know he was being followed? Harry's breath hitched in his throat and he warily watched as the paler boy threw a few pebbles into the lake. Suddenly, Harry wanted Draco to find him and he stood as still as possible, his body shivering in the warm night air. As long as it took, Harry could wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

Draco ground his teeth, his neck twitching from the effort it took to refrain from looking over his shoulder every five minutes. Damn if that nosy Harry Potter wasn't following him again! Harry followed his every move these days and Draco growled low in his throat, betting that he could hardly wipe his own ass without Potter wanting to know when and why.

He clenched his fists in the pockets of his robe and cursed under his breath, walking as calmly as possible towards the edge of the lake.

_Let Potter follow me_, he thought bitterly, crouching to scoop up a handful of moist pebbles from the water's edge. _I won't give him anything special to see and the bastard will give up and leave me alone_.

"Git," he muttered, tossing a single pebble out into the fog, faintly hearing the wet splash as the stone sunk. Draco felt rather than heard Harry edging closer, sensed him hovering behind a nearby tree. Draco rolled his eyes and huffed irritably; six years of bitter rivalry and Harry thought to sneak up on him?

Those years, those personal battles on the Quidditch pitch and in the halls, had turned Draco into a finely tuned Harry Radar. He could feel the pressure of the air around him change when Harry was near (or even several yards away); he could recognize Harry's other-worldly damp earth/sweaty male scent, which was already drifting on the night air and making him oddly dizzy. Draco could even feel those large green eyes burning into the back of his head and wondered whether a moment more would cause his hair to smoke and singe. Harry often gave him the impression of fire; whether it was the dark smoldering "I just woke up" looks he got during breakfast in the Great Hall, or the near maniacal blazing glares that got shot at him during Quidditch. Harry was distinctly on fire about something and Draco shivered involuntarily, wondering wildly what it would take to douse that flame.

_Be damned if I burn under his scrutiny forever_. Draco feigned boredom as he dropped the rest of the now sticky pebbles and crunched over them onto the silence of pine needles, leaning his back against the Harry-free side of the tree.

"How long are you going to keep this up, Potter?" Draco's snarl sliced the warm air and his hand grasped his wand, waiting for Harry to make the next move.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Draco spoke, and he licked his lips nervously, reflexively clasping his wand as he drew the Invisibility Cloak over his head and tossed it carelessly onto the ground. No need for it now, really. Harry leaned his back into the solidity of the tree, needing something in this moment to ground him, keep him from completely losing his sanity and reaching out for the other boy. Whether to strangle him or embrace him, Harry didn't know. In his confusion, either one was definitely possible. Maybe even both.

"Keep what up? Just out for a walk, Malfoy." Harry took a moment to let that sink in, to let his breathing deepen. That was soon found to be a mistake, as Draco's metallic and generally male scent washed over him, driven deeper into his lungs like a searing blade with every breath. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his forehead with his damp palm and seriously considered running. What was happening here? Why did he feel so unrestrained all of a sudden?

He could hear Draco's breaths, calming him until he had the nerve to speak again.

"What are you doing out here, Draco?" Harry took deeper breaths, waiting. Silence.

"It's after hours, Potter," Draco growled menacingly. "And what I do on my own time is none of your business."

Draco silently edged further around the tree until he could see the side of Harry's neck, strained in the other direction, his body leaning like moss against the bark, obviously trying to get a glimpse of him. That unruly black mop of hair lifted around his face in a sudden whisper of breeze and fell back damply. Draco quelled the abrupt inclination to reach out and wipe away the sweat that desecrated The Boy Who Suddenly Sweats Excessively. Draco smirked and exhaled loudly, surprised and delighted and afraid when Harry turned swiftly at the almost inaudible sound to pin him against the tree, and Draco dropped his wand in shock.

Harry's face emerged, inches from his own, his eyes large and dark and eerie against the pale white of his skin.

"What you do _is_ my business, Draco." Harry's voice was low and menacing, his body hot and shaking a little. Harry's left hand lifted unexpectedly, splaying those long white fingers over Draco's heart; his wand was hurriedly stashed in his pocket and Harry held the other boy still with one knee pushed dangerously close to his balls.

Draco trembled and winced when Harry leaned closer, and gasped when the other boy leaned his forehead against his shoulder.

"What have you been doing?" Harry sounded defeated and desperate and Draco could only focus on breathing. "Where have you been going?" He lifted his head to look into Draco's eyes and Draco saw himself reflected in those haunting orbs.

"Just tell me so I can stop thinking about you all the time. The thought of you is making me crazy." Harry dipped his face close to the shell-like hollow of Draco's ear and whispered, "Just tell me what you're doing in that room for hours at a time, what you do when no one's looking; just tell me, Draco, and put my mind at ease. Your dream face is killing me in my sleep, your dream self taunting me, and I can never get close enough to reach you. Just tell me…."

Draco drew in a deep shuddering breath, his ear on fire from Harry's hot mouth brushing his skin. How many times had he had half-dreams of this happening, of Harry so close and his mouth on him? But not like this.

"I…I'm not doing anything," Draco lied, his voice only a decibel over a sigh. When a feral groan of frustration ricocheted in his ear, he quickly opted for a half-truth. "I just…sit and think about…things….I just sit and think, alone where I can't be disturbed. What's it matter to you anyway?" Draco shifted uneasily, careful not to allow Harry to notice his growing arousal from this crazy situation, and realized his arms were free and what were they doing, wrapped loosely around Harry's waist, his fingers clenched in the cloth of Harry's shirt?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

With Draco's fists twisting the back of his shirt, Harry could barely think straight. The stars jumped in and out of focus in Draco's wide blue-grey eyes when Harry looked into them, his face finally level with Draco. His lips tingled, screamed for more of Draco's silken skin and Harry shook his head distractedly, frowning. A finger tip found the hardened nub of flesh over Draco's heart and Harry stroked it absently.

"What do you think about," he breathed. "What could you possibly be thinking, that you would spend hours by yourself, locking yourself away from…."

_From me? Oh god….This is going too far, too fast, and fuck if I don't want to stop!_

Harry lowered his mouth to a breath away from Draco's trembling lips.

"Are you trying escape me, to get away from me," he whispered. "Do you fight with thoughts of me, Draco? Do you pound your fists in frustration, disgusted to have me inside your head?" Harry suddenly ground his hips into Draco's. "Am I disgusting to you?"

"No," Draco gasped, surprised at the sudden honesty and intensity in his voice. His eyes fell on the legendary lightning bolt scar and turned his face away. That scar, that face, that body…they taunted him after every Quidditch game, they leered in his mind when he scrambled for privacy; and Draco wanted quite suddenly to hurt Harry, to let him feel how he felt when he'd got the best of him at everything.

"I mean yes," Draco snarled, turning back to look Harry straight in the eyes. The finger torturing his nipple slowed, but didn't stop.

"You make me sick, Harry. I can't blink without seeing you, can't breathe without you doing it better than me." Draco swallowed loudly, unclenching his fingers to reach under Harry's shirt, dragging his long nails unkindly from Harry's shoulder blades to his waist. Draco half-smiled at Harry's sharp intake of breath, and ran his nails down the same soon-puffy trails.

"The Boy Who Lived….Fuck you, Harry!" Draco moved his hips forward as if to squirm away, but Harry nudged his knee higher, preventing his escape.

Harry drew a ragged breath and pushed his hips harder into Draco, eliciting a growl as Draco abruptly attempted to struggle out of Harry's grip.

"I don't fucking think so, Draco!" Harry grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back into the tree, thrusting his elbows into the crooks of Draco's arms, and steeling his legs firmly against Draco's. Face to face again, Harry resisted the urge to laugh; Draco couldn't be more angry or agitated and maybe it was good for Draco to get an idea of how Harry himself often felt at Draco's hands--pinned down, like an animal.

"You think I do anything better than you?" Harry did laugh this time, right in Draco's face, a deep rumbling peal of mockery. "Quidditch, maybe," he conceded. "But I don't have it any easier in life than you do." Harry put his mouth back on Draco's ear.

"You have things I'd kill to have, Draco."

Draco whimpered in both fear and desire as what seemed to be a threat chilled his bones, while moist lips and warm breath brushed his skin, strengthening the ache at his core.

"What…what do I have that you want?"

"A mom and dad, for one thing," Harry breathed. Insanely, he grabbed a handful of Draco's hair, tilting the other boy's head roughly to the side. Harry growled against his throat at Draco's displeasured grumble and drew a feathered sigh from that same mouth as he flicked his tongue out to test the taut muscles. Draco tasted of fear, salt, and…what was that? Arousal?

"Good," Harry mumbled, grinding his hips into Draco's. "You have something else I want, Draco." He stood back slightly and ripped the clasp of that damned Slytherin robe, tore the thin cotton fabric waist of Draco's slacks, and reached down between them.

Draco's reaction was immediate. He moaned and bucked in pleasure, all while pushing at Harry's chest, refusing to let the other boy get any closer. But Harry persisted and eventually won, standing to the side of him, stimulating him and leaning down to kiss the breath out of him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, the part that wasn't screaming with dissatisfaction when Draco tore his mouth away, Harry realized that something might've finally snapped. Draco pushed him away and Harry stumbled, shaking his head. An eerie moment of clarity crashed over him and he stepped back again, breathing heavily. He quickly snatched up his Invisibility cloak, shaking out the grass to stall for time. The next move would be Draco's and as Harry smoothed out the cloaks folds, he looked straight into those almost-diamond eyes.

He saw fear there, anger and desire. Truly frightened, Harry gasped when Draco's fist suddenly connected with his chest; didn't even register the fact that Draco followed his quick descent to the ground until his eyes linked with Draco's, felt the pressure of another body tangled with his own.

"Wha-" Harry's confused cry was immediately muffled with a snake-like swirl of tongue that stabbed into his mouth. Completely taken aback and thrilled, Harry kissed back, chasing the hot wet invader with his own tongue, his hands no longer alone in the journey of unfamiliar territory.

As if locked in a kind of wrestling match to the death, the two teens rolled, groping, panting. Each one worked together to tear at clothing, to expose each other in more ways than one. But it was Draco who pushed Harry onto his hands and knees, Draco who tore away the last offending barrier of cloth; his hiss of longing sliced through to Harry's soul, chopping out the cancer of loathing that had threatened to eat all of his insides over the past almost seven years. Already slick with sweat, Draco drove wildly into Harry, his knees trembling so badly that he had to hold onto Harry's hips for dear life.

Harry's agonized cries soon turned to moans of pleasure as Draco continued to ride him. Reaching down to pleasure himslef, all thoughts of Death Eaters and Voldemort were chased away; pumping in rhythm with Draco's soul-searing thrusts, Harry could feel his body tightening, his back arching, almost ready to dive off the cliff of ecstasy.

It was Draco who came first, when he realized that Harry was helping himself, when he realized Harry was writhing and constricted with lust and ready to come. He drew back slowly, knuckles white on Harry's hips, and thrust forward, slamming into Harry's _place_. Draco thought he'd die whenhis heart stopped for a single beat. And then that hot glove of skin shuddered around him and Harry went slack around him.

Draco slumped over Harry's back, panting and sweating, slowly removing himself before he rolled over onto the grass. His release hadn't been some golden acid trip; it was a dark feral beast that had whipped him onward to completion and it growled with pleasure somewhere in his chest as he watched Harry's sweat-shined body slip the last few inches to the grass next to him.

"You…. You'll never tell me what you're doing, will you?" Harry's trembling murmur thudded around the mist like Draco's heartbeat. "But I don't care anymore. I can't keep wondering…. It's driving me mad."

Draco closed his eyes against the confession, against a future that his father and Lord Voldemort controlled.

"No," he whispered. "I'll never tell you what I'm doing, what's going through my head." He pulled a startled Harry closer to him, twisting a tight fist in that dark mop of hair. "But you'll always be able to find out when you hunt me down," Draco planted an equally lustful and angry kiss to the legendary lightning bolt scar. "Because you belong to me, Harry. Not even the Dark Lord can have you now."

Harry whimpered, struggling to control the chaos that tightened in his chest. Draco tamed it for him, though, resting his forehead against Harry's shoulder and falling into slumber.


End file.
